


There’s a Land Beyond the River

by melliejellie



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, American West in the early 1800s, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Major Character Injury, One-Sided Attraction, Only One Bed, Or Is It?, Pining, Pioneers, beefcake farmer!Bokuto, but not graphic bc I hate blood, city boy professor!Tsukishima, so much pining, took a few plot points from a hallmark movie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-16
Updated: 2021-02-04
Packaged: 2021-03-13 16:22:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,077
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28781175
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/melliejellie/pseuds/melliejellie
Summary: Kei travels West seeking knowledge and an idyllic life living off the land, but a major injury leaves him alone and at death's door until a kind, strong stranger saves him from himself and brings him back to life in more ways than one.
Relationships: Bokuto Koutarou/Tsukishima Kei
Comments: 70
Kudos: 83





	1. A Land Beyond the River

**Author's Note:**

> "There’s a land beyond the river,  
> That we call the sweet forever"  
>  _When They Ring the Golden Bells, Hymn_

“What on Earth are you haulin’ all them books for?” The man helping Kei repair his well-traveled wagon remarks after peeking in the back. “At the first sign of trouble, you should’ve tossed ‘em out over a hill.”

“I’ve made it this far,” Kei snaps back, holding back more bite because the man is, after all, helping him for free. True, he made it this far only because of the expertise of the group he travelled with until they parted ways at the last town, but this stranger doesn’t need to know that. As far as this man knows, Kei’s made it all the way out West on his own. “And there’s more to life than mere animal survival.”

“Suit yourself, but I’d rather fill a wagon with extra food and wagon parts than books.” The way the man says the last word makes Kei pinch his brows together and knit his lips together in a tight, neat line.

“To every man, his own paradise,” Kei replies. “Thank you for the assistance.”

“You got far to go?” The man asks, standing up straight and patting the dust off his trousers.

“No, my destination is only a day or two’s travel northwest.”

“Well sir, I hope you and your books have a safe journey.”

“You, as well.”

The man staunchly refuses payment yet again and Kei is inwardly very glad. He has little money left to spare and he’ll need everything he can get to set himself up in town to spend the winter before traveling farther west in the spring. Only a day or so left, he reminds himself, putting his hands on his hips and taking in the glory of the setting sun.

That night he sets up his small camp using the knowledge he gained from his traveling companions and, as much as he likes to be alone, he finds he sorely misses the company. A mix of men seeking fortune and families seeking opportunity, they had never quite understood Kei, the college professor, and his reasons for travelling West, but they had provided company, safety, and much needed survival advice.

Turns out reading about surviving and actually attempting it are two very different things. He’d learned a lot along the way, despite his pride, but now, alone with a pitiful fire, he finds himself jumping at every little sound.

It’s going to be a sleepless night.

***

Kei startles from a light doze when he hears a crash and nervous braying from his horse. He jumps to his feet and darts out of the wagon, landing on shaky legs. There’s light from the moon, but the clouds are thick tonight and he can only see anything in the dim light in short bursts.

He knows he sprang into action as quickly as he could, but his horse is already nowhere in sight. He camped in the open, fearing the woods, and his rational brain knows the animal can’t have gone that far so quickly.

It’s then that he begins to worry over what made the horse frightened enough to break his rope and flee.

Kei stills, listening to the night air around him. In the distance he hears what could possibly be his horse and he wants to run after it, but closer, closer than the sound of his horse is the quiet crunching of small, but heavy steps on dry prairie grass.

He’s frozen, but his heart beats wildly in his chest. The old shotgun his traveling companions gave him is back in the wagon, but even if he had it, he doesn’t know how to shoot it.

Like a statue he remains rooted in place. The footsteps never get any closer and he closes his eyes as he hears them fade away. He thanks whatever powers in the universe he does believe in that they’re gone. He knows from past run-ins that it’s potentially not over yet, that sometimes predators will gather data the same way he did at the university, only with much deadlier aims in mind.

He swiftly grabs the gun and seeks to solve his other pressing problem. He’s not going anywhere tomorrow without a horse.

With the moon darting behind clouds, he moves as quickly as he feels safe doing so on unfamiliar terrain while carrying a weapon he fears almost as much as the creatures he hopes to protect himself from. He listens for any familiar sounds of his horse, and sometimes he swears he can hear them, but he strays farther and farther from camp. Several times he wonders if he should turn back, wait until morning, but by then there’s even less of a chance he’d find his horse, he reasons, and there’s no guarantee anyone will travel by this way anytime soon. No, he has to finish this now.

Carried by the wind that rushes past his ears, he hears his horse and rushes in that direction. He can sense that he’s getting closer, knows it in his guts, and he runs faster and faster to close the distance.

There’s a crack. He feels his ankle twist and then he’s falling, limbs flailing. His left leg is caught and as he falls he knows it’s bending unnaturally and he tries to swing the rest of his body to compensate but he forgets about the shotgun in his hand. The blunt end of it shoves forcefully into the ground and it goes off. He feels a second sharp pain in his leg and then everything’s black.

***

When he wakes, Kei’s drenched in sweat, his clothes sticking to every part of him, and his eyes refuse to focus. His mind is all haze and confusion, but a stabbing pain courses through his blood, reminding him that he still has life in him. He tries to move but finds that his body won’t respond. Instead it moves on its own, jerking fitfully as the ache in his body grows. The fog in his mind grows thicker, but he fights it and attempts to look around. He’s not outside, but that’s all he can register before the darkness takes him once again.

***

Once more he wakes. The throbbing ache still consumes him, but when he opens his eyes he can see he’s in a room. There’s light pouring through a small window. And he’s not alone.

He hears sounds beside him and jerks his head, immediately regretting the swift motion when his eyes momentarily black out again. His cheek hits the bed. It’s wet. Probably from his sweat.

“Welcome back,” Kei hears. The voice is rumbling, low, and thick with worry. He wants to see who has presumably rescued him from death, but all he can see is a pair of legs and his neck is far too weak to lift his head up any higher.

“I was startin’ to worry that I’d have to get us a preacher to bury you, but it seems you’re comin’ around.”

Kei breathes in and out, the motion hurting his chest the whole time. Everything hurts. He groans and the sound is small, weak.

“Don’t try to move too much. Not yet.” A set of rough hands carefully cradle Kei’s head and set him back on a firm pillow. In this position his eyes can finally settle on his savior, but it’s like looking at someone through a thick fog. He catches glimpses of silvery grey hair and wide eyes.

“You should probably just go back to sleep. Ain’t much I can do for the pain, so sleep’s all you got. Don’t worry. I’ll keep makin’ sure you’re breathin’."

Kei blinks and tries to focus, but finds that even that simple action causes the throbbing in his veins to grow. He shuts his eyes. It takes a long time for sleep to come, but it does. He finds sleep as his savior hums to himself, busy with tasks around the room.

***

Kei has no way of telling how much time passes before he reaches the day when he can fully open his eyes and see clearly. He wakes and it’s the first time he can remember not being drenched in sweat. His body is still riddled with pain, and he dare not move more than is necessary, but he is able to carefully move his neck and take in his surroundings.

He’s in a one-room cabin made from planks of thick wood. From his position, he can see the top of a stove, the slim chimney reaching up through a small opening in the roof. Next to it is a cabinet, functional and without frills. That’s how he’d describe everything he can see - made with functionality and survival in mind. A mix of smells hit him, too. The earthy scent of the timber walls, a faint smell of cooking fat hanging in the air, but more than anything he smells the acrid sweat of his own body. To him, he smells of death, though, by some miracle, he is definitely alive. And alone. His rescuer is no where to be seen.

He lies there for some time, judging by the way the sunlight shifts in the small window, but he dares not move. Anytime he tries he’s met with sharp pains that make him cry out into the empty room.

Sometime later, he hears a door creak open. He can’t turn his head or lift it enough to look. His heart starts to rattle in his chest in uneven beats. His rational mind understands that this person has cared for him, brought him back to life, but the rest of him is afraid. He’s vulnerable and this man is a stranger. His muscles clench and he sucks in a breath sharply through grit teeth as pain wracks his body again.

“Easy, easy there,” a voice says. There’s several quick, heavy footsteps and then a man is crouched at his bedside. For the first time, Kei sees him clearly. The first thing he sees are those wide eyes. They’re kind and filled with concern, but sharp and piercing. Above them is a mess of mixing strands of light and dark grey hair falling haphazardly around his face.

“You’re lookin’ better today. I’m glad. Got some color back in your skin, though you’re still pale as a sheet. I’m startin’ to think that’s just how you look.” The man chuckles softly.

The sound makes Kei’s shoulders start to relax. It’s odd. His voice, his laugh sound familiar though Kei can’t remember hearing them enough for them to become a comfort. It must’ve been during all that time he was lost to fitful sleep, a voice reaching out to him through the darkness.

“This is the longest I’ve seen your eyes open since I brought you here. Some pancakes’ll probably get you some of that strength back, and I got a little meat around here, but I doubt you’re up to eatin’ quite yet.”

The man studies him with a gentle gaze, his eyes locking with Kei’s every once in a while as he talks.

“We’ll get you back up and busy in no time, though. I know it. You’re a skinny little thing but a fighter. Hung around longer than some I’ve known.” He smiles. “You’ve been here a little over two weeks, friend. And oh!” His eyes grow wide. “I’m Koutarou, but Kou’s fine, for when you get your voice back and can call me somethin’.”

Koutarou. Kei says the name in his mind.

He starts to try to move his body, to sit up in any sort of way, but no part of his body seems strong enough.

"Hold on." Two hands reach out to hold him steady. "If you're that eager to sit I'll help, but don't push it. You want to?"

Kei nods the best he can, picking his head up off the pillow in a difficult show of strength.

"Well alright, then. Slow and steady. I'll help."

Those hands stay on Kei's shoulders until he's far enough up off the bed that one slips behind his back. The span of the man's hand fills most of the space behind him and Kei feels supported and ready to keep pushing past the pain so he can sit up in the bed he's been in for weeks.

Once he's up, gritting his teeth and determined to stay upright, Koutarou sets Kei’s back down gently against the headboard.

Koutarou stands and claps his hands together. "I underestimated you! Strong and stubborn," he says with a tone of warm approval. “You think you’re up for eatin’?”

As best he can, Kei nods. The motion is small, but even that sends a dart of sharp pain along his neck, down his back.

“Sure thing. I was just about to fix me up some supper, so I can add a little in there for you, too.” Koutarou nods, setting his hands on his hips. He looks down at Kei, pinching his lips together in thought. “Though, I might need to mash it up a bit for you, help you eat it, like I would for a baby.” He seems to ponder what he’s said for a moment before a grin creeps onto his face, growing larger with each second. He turns towards the small kitchen, and chuckles to himself. “Like a baby.”

***

One hearty meal at a time, Kei makes progress. In a few day’s time he manages to work his way up from Koutarou’s “baby food” to chewing softer foods on his own. His jaw is stiff from lack of use and he still can’t hold a plate or a bowl after not eating for so long, but he improves.

Physically, he improves, but mentally he is shattered. As his body continues the hard work of repairing the damage he’s done to himself, his mind ruminates on his horrible mistake, his arrogant miscalculation. The first day Koutarou lets him look at his leg under all the bandages he throws up nothing but bile on the floor. Now when he closes his eyes, it’s all he can see.

Koutarou, in his always kind voice, says that he’s seen much worse, that Kei was lucky the bullet exited so cleanly and that the bone is healing nicely. He says every morning that Kei will be up and walking again in no time, but Kei finds that impossibly hard to believe.

During the day, when Koutarou leaves to work in the fields around his home, Kei lies in bed and thinks. He closes his eyes and wishes that he had never been foolish enough to embark on this journey, let his mind be led astray by hopes of exploration and new research out West. He was never meant for this. The first moment he was alone, he proved that much to be true.

And now he’s here, a burden on a kind man.

Kei knows that Koutarou sleeps on the floor next to his bed. On the floor. In his own home. He cooks enough for two even though Kei understands how difficult it is to come by all the pieces of a hearty meal.

And he knows that time is passing, that winter is coming, that he is miles and miles from his original destination. He has allowed himself to become a heavy weight upon Koutarou’s shoulders, a weight he shouldn’t have to carry.

Kei hasn’t yet asked after what he should do when he’s on his feet again. He knows how little money he had left. He knows exceptionally well now how unsuited he was for this life.

Wounded and lost, he spends his days alone with all of his most horrible thoughts.

At night, Koutarou’s presence brings a kind of relief. He talks so much that Kei doesn’t have a moment to think and his voice is deep and soothing, and it still resonates with Kei, still calls to some part of him that was awake when the rest of him was fighting to stay alive.

During dinner, Koutarou always has a story.

“--and you’ll see Bess soon, too. She’s a big ol’ girl and, I swear, pullin’ milk out of her is like trying to get water from a stone sometimes, but she’s my favorite. See, I bought Bess from a man who was leavin’ and goin’ back East, couldn’t stick it out any longer, and he was more than happy to get rid of her. Sold her to me at an awfully good price. Shoulda been my first sign.” Koutarou laughs, forking more off his plate and then talking as he chews.

“For the first few weeks, I was ready to sell her myself, but I kept tryin’. So one day, I just start talkin’ to her. Instead of tryin’ to milk her and cussin’ up a storm, I look her in her big brown eyes and say, ‘Bess, I’m sorry. I’ll give you some time to get used to bein’ here and then we’ll try again.’ So I tell her about the few sheep I have, you know, so she’ll get to know her new neighbors.” He waves around his fork and raises his eyebrows like it was the obvious decision. “And don’t you know it, in a few days I had fresh milk I didn’t have to buy! Now every once in a while she’ll get in a mood again, but I just talk to her, make sure she remembers she’s welcome, and then we’re back to better days.”

Kei never knows what to say in response, but Koutarou always waits, even sets his fork down and watches Kei, ready for whatever he’ll say.

“She sounds like a very interesting animal.” He says, settling his small bowl down in his lap, the spoon clanking as it settles.

Koutarou smiles wide. “She certainly is.” He scrapes the last forkful from his own plate, but before it reaches his lips he freezes and looks at Kei, his eyes big. “I just remembered something.”

Setting his plate down at the edge of Kei’s bed, he jumps up and goes towards the door. Kei watches as he picks up a crate he threw aside when he walked in earlier. When Koutarou pulls out one of Kei’s books, his heart leaps in his chest.

“My books,” he says in disbelief, “you—”

“Saved them, along with everything in your wagon. It’s been in my barn this whole time and I kept wonderin’ if I should bring them in or not, but I figured since you couldn’t lift a spoon, it wouldn't be a kind reminder. But now that you’re doin’ so well, I thought—” He stops. His big smile falters, suddenly unsure.

“Oh, thank you,” Kei reassures, quiet surprise written across his face. “Really, thank you.” He holds out a hand and Koutarou crosses the room and slips the slightly worn book into his hands. Kei doesn’t have to see the title to know what it is. He recognizes the green cover, the weathered pages. It’s a favorite among his botany collection. A guide to the different mosses in the territories. More than once it helped him look at least somewhat knowledgeable to his traveling group. He sets it down in his lap and strokes his fingers over the binding. “Thank you for saving these.”

***

Sitting up in bed, a discarded breakfast plate beside him, Kei holds a book in his hands, tilting it so Koutarou can see, too.

“—and these—” Kei instinctively flips the correct number of pages to the next image he wants to show Koutarou. “Are _fragaria vesca,_ also known as the alpine or woodland strawberry. They’re not particularly relevant to my research, though, as I have come across them before in the Northeast. _Rubus parviflorus,_ on the other hand, is native only to the Northwest. I believe people call them thimbleberries.”

“A whole mess of those first ones grow around here in the warmer months. I don’t believe I’ve seen the others, though.”

“That would make sense. They tend to prefer high elevations.”

Koutarou’s head turns from the book and Kei once again is on the receiving end of his intense stare. Kei watches the soft lines of his lips lift into a grin. “So you came out all this way to study little, red berries?”

“Not just berries, no.” Kei clicks his tongue. “I came with the intentions of settling down in a not yet researched area of the Northwest and completing a thorough documentation of the plants native to the region.”

Koutarou’s voice is slow when he replies, “Interesting.”

Kei quirks an eyebrow.

Koutarou’s grin stretches. He throws up two hands and says, “Look, I’m not one to judge anyone’s reasons for comin’ out here. I mean, I came out here to work the land and make something of myself. Just because I don’t see any use for plants that exist just to be pretty doesn’t mean someone else shouldn’t find any use for them.”

“You’ve never just stood and noticed how, while not particularly useful, how beautiful something is?”

The way Koutarou’s gaze settles on him in the quiet moment in between when Koutarou thinks and when he speaks sends a slight shiver up Kei’s spine. “Every once in a while I guess I do.”


	2. That Haven of Tomorrow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kei heals. Kei discovers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We shall know no sin or sorrow,  
> In that haven of tomorrow  
>  _When They Ring the Golden Bells, Hymn_

Kei’s first steps around the small cabin are taken with Koutarou at his side. It’s humiliating to be this vulnerable, leaning on Koutarou’s sturdy body as he winces every time he puts pressure on his left leg.

The whole time, Koutarou tells him stories about watching a newborn calf learn to walk to comfort him or, at the very least, take his mind off of his situation. Truly, Kei does find it comforting, just as he’s come to associate Koutarou’s voice with a feeling of safety. But each time his weight presses against Koutatou and the stronger man holds him upright, he’s reminded of what a burden he is to this kind, gentle man.

When Koutarou’s out in the fields, Kei attempts to circle the cabin on his own. He takes shaky step after shaky step, forcing himself to grow stronger and be himself again. More than once he pushes himself too far. He collapses into a pile of limbs on the ground and he allows himself minutes to wallow in self-pity before he picks himself up again, determined to not let Koutarou see him like that. He’d worry and that’s the last thing Kei needs right now. Koutarou has worried over him enough. It’s time for him to take care of himself again and try to repay the everlasting debt he owes the big-hearted man.

But he needs his strength first. In between flipping pages of his books and mentally visiting his old life back East, Kei drags his body around the outside of the cabin, holding on to it for balance until one day he finds he doesn’t need to anymore. In his mind, he celebrates, overjoyed with the simple pleasure of standing on his own two feet and feeling stable.

It takes a few more days, and a few more of Koutarou’s dinners, for him to feel ready to go further. He sets his eyes on the barn, clenches his fists at his sides, squares his shoulders, sets his jaw, and puts one foot in front of the other. He stumbles several times, but he never falls. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he’s yelling at himself to not be so proud of accomplishing something so small, but he hushes it up quickly enough as his hands slam against the rough, weathered wood.

Kei makes a small sound of joy in his throat as his fingers dig between the wood so he can pry open the doors. He struggles, but growls his way through it until he’s cracked them open enough to slip inside. The sunlight outdoors filters in through openings in the walls and resting beneath a sunbeam is one hefty cow.

Settling down on a straw bale near her, Kei sighs with relief the moment he’s off his feet. He grins over at the cow and decides to do exactly what Koutarou does. He talks to her. “You must be Bess. I’m Kei. It’s lovely to meet you.”

The cow lets out a wet snort before turning her head away from him.

“I got here a few weeks ago. Maybe more than a few. My concept of time leaves something to be desired at the moment.” He stops, wondering if he should stop talking to an animal, but finds he enjoys it. A listening ear where he doesn’t have to worry about what he says. “See, I ended up here because I’m a fool,” he says honestly, giving voice to the thoughts that have plagued his mind since the pain receded. “Your owner, is that the right word? Your man? That seems worse. The man who owns this barn you’re napping in, he saved my life. He gave me a place to return to life. He fed me. He cared for my stupid, self-inflicted wounds. He’s given me so much and I fear that nothing I can ever do will repay my debt.”

Bess lets out another snort, her tail flicking against her back, and her big eyes land on him.

“He’s a good man. Too good. I fear I’ve taken advantage of his kindness. And what’s worse is that I may have to ask more of him. See, Bess, I just--” His shoulders slump. “I don’t have anywhere else to go. But I have nothing to give him. I must ask of him the impossible. Who would want a leech sucking off of them all winter? I’m not built for this. I can’t contribute. Sure, I read from my books at night while Koutarou shuts his eyes and listens after dinner, but that pales in comparison to what I’ve been given.”

The heavier the words get, the lighter he feels. The weight of his burden placed on this man have been weighing him down for weeks. He still has no solution, but it’s no longer trapped only inside his mind.

“I am not sure what to do, Bess. And you, you are a cow so you probably don’t know what to do either.” He puffs out a soft laugh. “Not that you don’t have wonderful thoughts of your own. I’m sure you do. It’s just that I’ve never properly met a cow and--”

The barn doors swing open with a clatter. “Oh thank heavens, there you are!” Koutarou barrels in, his brow sweaty from whatever work he was doing before returning home. “I was hollerin’ for you all over.”

“Sorry,” Kei mutters, “I didn’t hear you. I was--”

“Talkin’ to Bess?” Koutarou grins, folding his arms in front of his chest. “She’s a good listener, even if she is the moodiest cow I’ve ever owned. You hungry? I was fixin’ to start cooking when I noticed you were gone.”

“I’m afraid I spent the bulk of my strength being bullheaded enough to walk all the way out here. I might need some time here, on this straw, talking to Bess before I can make the journey back.”

“Well, the sun’s setting and you’re in no shape to hobble back in the dark, so why don’t you--” In a few steps Koutarou is in his space, dipping his shoulder down and reaching for Kei’s arm. “Let me help get you home.”

***

That night, with bellies full and a fire keeping them warm, Kei reads from a still new-looking Austen novel he bought right before he left, thinking he’d have ample time to read once he reached his destination. Koutarou closes his eyes and settles back in a creaky rocking chair, slowly tipping back and forth. The smell of Koutarou’s cooking is still thick in the air, but even as Kei reads the well-crafted words on the page, he can’t help but feed the nagging thoughts in his mind.

He slips a finger between the pages and shuts the book in his lap. “Koutarou?” He says softly. “I’ve been thinking.”

Koutarou peeks one eye open and nods for him to continue. “Good things, I hope.”

“Not, maybe not wholly good. You have,” he falters, not knowing where he needs to go, but knowing where he needs to end up. “You have quite literally brought me back from the brink of death and I am forever in your debt.”

“No debts between friends,” Koutarou says with a smile, closing his eyes again and leaning back against his chair.

“But I am indebted to you!” Kei insists. “I have been in your home for weeks, months now. You cared for me, you feed me, you let me sleep in your bed and I have given you nothing in return.”

“You’ve given me your company.”

The simple comment, said with such conviction, stills any words that might have wanted to leave Kei’s lips. It takes him several breaths before he can reply, “That’s hardly repayment for what you’ve given me.”

Koutarou opens his eyes and turns his head to look at Kei directly. “As far as I’m concerned, there is no debt between us. I found you. I brought you to my home, as any good man would do, and it’s brought me great pleasure to see you better everyday. Makes me,” Koutarou turns his gaze back to the fire, his voice growing softer, “makes me think I’m doin’ something right. So see? You’ve done plenty for me, too.”

Kei opens his mouth to retort, but Koutarou is looking back at him, that wide grin back in place. “Plus I like listenin’ to you read at night. Best entertainment I’ve had in years!”

“But, with all due respect, winter is upon us and I must ask the impossible of you.”

“You need to stay with me, right? The last group travelling East left weeks ago and North of us it’s already getting to be that kind of cold that tells you snow is on its way. I figured you’d be with me for the long haul and that’s quite alright with me.” Suddenly Koutarou’s expression shifts, worry slipping onto his features. “Unless, do you not want to stay here? Sorry if I presumed--”

“No. Yes. I want to stay,” Kei interrupts. “If you’ll have me. I don’t have much to offer now, but I can learn to help.”

“Once you can make it to the barn and back on your own, that is,” Koutarou teases, but his big, bright eyes are kind. He reaches out a big, rough hand towards Kei in a handshake. “Sounds like a deal to me.”

Kei takes his hand gently and feels himself shiver when those hard-working fingers wrap around his soft skin. He nods slowly. “Thank you, Koutarou.”

“With that settled,” Koutarou uses his other hand to pat them both before withdrawing to his chair again, “I do have a selfish request.”

“Anything. You’ve done so much for me, I--”

Koutarou closes his eyes. “Keep readin’. We were gettin’ to a good part. I want to know what she does next.”

Kei watches him settle further back against his chair, wiggling his big, broad shoulders until he’s comfortable, hands folded neatly across his chest as he waits for his story to continue.

Opening to the last page he read, Kei smiles warmly, and begins to read.

***

Drenched in sweat, Kei gasps for breath as he’s jolted into alertness. He grabs for his leg, feeling the searing pain of the shotgun wound again. He grits his teeth as he wraps his hands around the healed skin, the scars, and tries to tell himself that it’s not happening, that he’s not in that night-drenched field alone, but these dreams make it so real again and again.

He feels a hand on his back through his sweat-soaked shirt. “Kei, you alright? You’re here. In the cabin. You’re safe here, remember?”

A shiver runs through his body. Still grinding his teeth, he nods. Slowly he opens his mouth and tries to take in deep breaths as Koutarou’s hand gently pats his back.

“Just a dream,” Koutarou says softly, “just a dream.”

Kei nods again, unable to find speech in this state. He has to pry his hands away from his leg with willpower alone. They keep seeking the wound, trying to stop the bleeding he sees in his nightmares.

“I’m gonna get you another shirt. Sleep in this one and you’ll catch a chill. It’s right cold tonight.”

Another shiver rolls through him as he comes back into reality. Back into his cabin where he’s safe. He’s safe here.

With shaking arms, he changes shirts as Koutarou settles back on the floor bed he’s made for himself. But while Koutarou gets comfortable, as comfortable as one can be on a floor, Kei finds he can’t lie back down. His body is still shivering and he can’t tell if it’s more from adrenaline or the cold. It’s likely a horrid mix of both.

In the darkness, he looks around the room until his eyes settle on where he knows Koutarou is. He can’t seem him well, but he can hear his steady breaths. Kei closes his eyes and tries to listen to them, but his own mind is still so loud.

Kei is terrified and freezing, his nightmare still clinging to him. And the floor is no place for a kind man to sleep. If Koutarou won’t let them switch, won’t let Kei take the floor, then maybe there is another solution. Something Kei could only ever ask for in the darkness of night.

“Koutarou?” He asks softly.

“Mm?”

“You don’t have to sleep on the floor anymore. We’re far from strangers now and there’s room enough in this bed for the both of us.” He holds his breath, waiting for the reply.

“And it is cold enough to make the milk freeze in Bess’ udders tonight.” Koutarou laughs and the sound helps tether Kei back to this room.

“I promise I’ll stay near the wall. I’ll make room.”

“Are you sure? I’m afraid I’ll crowd you right out of that thing.”

“If we lie on our sides, I’m sure there’s space for us both.”

He waits in the darkness for the sounds of movement. After a moment, Koutarou grunts and Kei hears the sounds of blankets rustling. He quickly rolls onto his side facing the wall, as promised.

Kei feels the bed is dipping behind him as it creaks under the weight of both their bodies, then Koutarou is throwing his blankets on top of them, too, doubling what Kei had on him before. The way Koutarou’s broad back, covered only by a long-sleeved shirt, aligns against his own works wonders to fight the chill.

“G’night Kei.”

“Good night, Koutarou.”

The instant warmth is deeply soothing and it settles Kei’s still rapidly beating heart. Listening to the sound of Koutarou’s steady breaths behind him, Kei finds restful sleep.

***

One afternoon after Kei safely takes several turns about the property all on his own, he rifles through his possessions looking for every last cent and dollar he saved. Most of it he kept on his person, but fearing theives and other dangers that turned out to be far more fictional than the things that actually endangered his life, the rest he kept tucked between the pages of his precious books.

When Koutarou returns home in the early evening, Kei has every bit of his money laid out neatly on the worn table.

“So you can buy supplies in town for the winter,” Kei says before Koutarou has a chance to speak. “I know you head that way on Saturdays. It’s not much, but I hope it helps.”

Koutarou takes a few steps closer, his eyes drifting between Kei and the money. There’s a small grin at the corner of his lips when he says, “Thank you, that’ll help mightily.”

Anxious, Kei rambles on. “And if it’s not enough I can sell some of the things I brought. I have,” he starts picking up objects he sorted on the floor, “books I don’t really need, some clothes that I can do without, this shotgun I don’t know what to do with--”

“The books might not fetch us much here,” Koutarou interrupts quietly.

Kei’s spirit dampens. Of course, the things he holds most precious in this world are useless to other people who have more important things to concern themselves with, like survival. Another reason why he should have stayed back East.

Koutarou continues, “And I don’t want you sellin’ the only thing we have to enjoy when we’re snowed in. Clothes are a necessity. If they don’t fit or are torn, I can help there. Fabric is hard to come by. A shotgun is a necessity. Even in the winter. I’ve taken a peek at it before. Looks pretty old, but if it can fire, it can help.”

In a few steps, he closes the distance between them and pats Kei on the arm. “Thank you for offerin’ what you have.” His hand lingers.

“It’s the least I can do.” The spot on his arm where Koutarou’s fingers stay, gently press into his sleeve, feels warm.

“We’ll manage. I’ve wintered alone for so many years that I have the know-how. I’ve just been stockpilin’ a little more in the barn and in all the cabinets.” He gives Kei’s arm a squeeze before letting go. “Don’t go wastin’ your mind on worryin.’ I’ll take this,” he says, pointing towards the money, “and we’ll be more than good. Maybe a bit meager as we make it stretch through the winter, but we’ll be fine.”

It occurs to Kei, again, that he has no idea what it takes to survive a winter. He thinks of all the glass jars he’s seen in Koutarou’s cupboards, all the dried meats he keeps carefully stored.

“A-and I can cook. A little,” the words rush out of Kei. “Not well, but I learned a few things before I left. I--” he sighs, feeling shame creep into his bones, “I never really had to take care of myself all alone before. I was so foolish to think I could make it out here. I had some romantic view of an idyllic life where I studied plants and lived off the land. I read everything, everything Koutarou, but that knowledge hasn’t mattered much. So I can’t cook as well as you, but I know a few things. I can help, at least.”

He starts to take a big breath after letting loose so many thoughts at once, but he’s cut short as Koutarou steps towards him, wraps himself around Kei’s body, and hugs him so tight Kei’s feet briefly lift up from the ground.

“There you go, worryin’ again,” Koutarou says with a smile as he sets him back down, patting him on the back before he starts to rifle in the kitchen cupboards. “I told you. I’m happy you’re here. And I’m not a liar, so you know I meant it. Though, I guess you don’t know for certain that I’m not a liar--” Koutarou pops back up and turns toward him, his face pinched together in thought. “I guess you’ll just have to take my word for it then.”

He shrugs and starts pulling out vegetables from the rucksack he brings home each day. “You wanna help?”

“Yes.” Kei nods, shuffling closer.

“Great. How are you with a knife?” Koutarou turns his face to ask him and Kei’s breath catches in his throat, suddenly realizing how close they are. Even though they now sleep in one bed each night, being in Koutarou’s presence like this with sunlight still pouring through the windows, is something else entirely.

“Decent,” he replies.

“Perfect.” Koutarou dumps the vegetables down in front of Kei. “Let’s get cookin.’” He sets his hands on his hips and smiles so wide Kei swears he can see his very back teeth.

That night they settle in for a supper of potato and vegetable soup. There’s not much meat, but the fat Koutarou saved from the weekend meal brings a flavor and richness that warms Kei down to his bones. Along with the satisfaction of contributing, of having the strength to contribute, and the fine company across from him, Kei slips into an odd but welcome kind of contentment.

It’s a kind of comfort Kei’s never known before. As Kei eats his fill, his chest swells with warmth for the man who brought him back to life.

***

With the supplies Kei’s money allows them to buy, they fall into a new pattern as late autumn gives way to a rush of winter all at once. One afternoon the leaves are still rich and red on the trees, and the next everything has turned empty and still.

Koutarou doesn’t have as much fieldwork to tend to in the winter, but he does care for the animals everyday. Each morning he wears as many layers as he can fit over his wide frame and walks out into the cold.

A few weeks ago, Kei started following him out the door to the barn and the pens. Unsurprisingly, he was useless as a farmhand at first. More than once Kei had to scowl at Koutarou for the way the other man was clearly pinching his lips tightly together to keep laughter from pouring out. But Koutarou, in his endless kindness, also had a spirit of endless patience and, over time, taught Kei how to help with some of the tasks.

Kei feels a new type of pride whenever he finishes work alongside Koutarou. It’s wholly different than the satisfaction he felt publishing a new article or teaching a lecture back home. By late afternoon, there’s an ache in his hands, in his shoulders, in his back, but it makes him feel alive, as though he’s finally awoken from a long, dreamless sleep.

Working together also means that Koutarou is done earlier than he used to be. They return to the cabin when the sun is still visible and peel each cold, damp outer layer from their bodies until they’re huddled together in front of another day’s fire, warming themselves through the last few layers of cloth on their bodies.

Koutarou sits closer to him now. Stands nearer to him, too. When they’re in the kitchen, Koutarou dances around him as they cook, brushing up against Kei’s arms or even letting his chin rest on Kei’s shoulder so he can peek at what Kei’s doing. When they’re in front of the fireplace, Koutarou’s strong arms are right alongside Kei’s, both their hands stretching together towards the warmth.

In these moments, Koutarou is quiet and still in a way that he usually isn’t. The big ball of energy bounces through his days, but during these early evenings Koutarou breaths steady and soft beside him, his eyes wide open but filled with peace.

Kei wishes he could feel the same, but these moments do something else to him entirely. Having Koutarou so close, coupled with how easily and often the other man touches him now, makes his heart drum in his chest, nearly as hard as it does when they work in the barn.

He decides to be careful with this feeling, to bury deep in the back of his mind. He’s lived enough years to know that feelings like this should never see the light of day.

So, as much as he can in the small cabin, Kei tries to keep a safe distance.

“You sure you don’t want to head into town?” Koutarou asks one afternoon, pulling on the biggest coat he owns to protect him from the cold before he opens the cabin door.

Kei shakes his head. “Thank you for offering, but I’ll keep myself busy here.”

He’s gone into town with Koutarou once, and only once. Koutarou has only one horse which meant that Kei had to hold onto his waist, his face pressed against Koutarou’s back, as they whipped over the rocky, winding trails that led them to the small collection of buildings that qualified as the nearest town.

When they got back home that afternoon, Kei’s heart was racing from the breakneck pace at which Koutarou prefers to ride and also that unwelcome yet lovely sensation humming beneath Kei’s skin.

“Suit yourself!” Koutarou chuckles on his way out. “I’ll be back before sundown.”

“I’ll start dinner so it’ll be nearly ready when you get back.” Kei smiles, giving Koutarou the same, small wave he gives him whenever he leaves for town.

Usually Koutarou darts out the door right after, but this morning, he lingers in the doorway, his lips parted but no words leave him. Kei watches his expressive face shift between a few emotions that Kei has trouble placing before Koutarou gives him a curt nod and says, “See you this evenin,’ Kei.”

The second the door is shut, Kei’s traitorous heart beats wildly. Hei squeezes his eyes shut and silently berates himself. He’s grateful for all Koutarou’s done. That’s it. Whatever his mind or heart cooks up about what else might be going on is just incorrectly labeled gratitude. And friendship. Simply friendship. Koutarou is a kind man and maybe Kei just hasn’t had enough people treat him with such sincere kindness before.

That’s all this is.

A grateful friendship.

But at night when Koutarou is asleep along his back, Kei lets his secrets run away with reckless abandon. The only place these thoughts are safe is in the dead of night. He falls asleep to the sound of Koutarou’s heavy breathing behind him and dreams of sharing more than dinners and stories in front of the fireplace.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I love writing/reading fics where the tension just BURSTS and they make out like crazy. But, oooooooh, how I love some longing glances, some light grazing of hands, gentle gasps hidden under cover of night.
> 
> One chapter left! It'll be out in a... weekish?
> 
> Thanks for reading this super niche, rarepair AU. I hope you're still enjoying their little world.


	3. That Lovely Eden

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "We shall reach that lovely Eden,  
> When they ring the golden bells for you and me."  
>  _When They Ring the Golden Bells, Hymn_

Kei spots the first snowflakes of the season outside the small widow near the bed one night with Koutarou stretched out beside him. He watches the delicate flakes melt against the glass as the flurries give way to an actual, steady snowfall. He’s so mesmerized by the peace of it that he doesn’t feel Koutarou moving until there’s breath on the back of his neck. Kei shudders.

“First snow’s always the prettiest one,” Koutarou whispers, his voice thick with sleep. “After that you get sick of it makin’ everything a little tougher to do, but this first one? It’s perfect.”

Every night now they sleep back-to-back, but in this moment Koutarou’s chest is pressed along Kei’s back, soft breaths skimming along his skin. He feels Koutarou’s words when he speaks them and he has to shut his eyes tight and ball his hand into a fist to steady himself.

“Don’t you think, Kei?”

“Never was one for snow,” he replies, voice strained as Koutarou shifts behind him, making more of their bodies touch. “Or the cold. But it’s nice to look at from here.” His voice grows thinner, but if Koutarou notices, he doesn’t ask about it.

“You’re right. Always better from inside. It’ll probably make tomorrow’s chores more difficult, the way it’s coming down, but right now I like it.” Koutarou’s heavy hand lands on Kei’s upper arm, his thumb idly stroking the fabric of Kei’s shirt. “Right now it’s beautiful.”

Kei feels the sting of tears behind his eyes and he has no idea why his body is betraying him like this, no idea why he’d want to cry, of all things. Maybe it’s just too much all at once. Kei is overwhelmed by the way his body reacts to such a simple touch, by the way his dreams are colliding with reality in this one, singular moment. It’s too easy to pretend right now. And he can’t let that happen.

He has to swallow around a lump in his throat before words will come. “Well, we should probably get back to sleep. Morning will be here before we know it.”

Koutarou’s thumb stops and slowly he pulls his hand away.

Kei already longs for him to touch him like that again, soft and sure.

“Ah, guess you’re right,” Koutarou yawns. Kei feels the bed dip behind him as Koutarou turns himself back over. “See you in the mornin,’ Kei.”

***

The fire is warm, but their bodies are frozen. Kei and Koutarou returned from their chores outside as the sun was hanging low in the sky. The wind nipped at their bones through their well-worn layers and left every inch of them as cold as the snow that coated the ground. The chairs they usually retired to after a hard day’s work are simply too far away from the fire for warmth, even when they move them closer, so they’re sitting on the floor and huddled together, arms aligned and knees touching in front of the fire.

Their coats are hung together to dry and they’ve had to strip down to their driest layers so the wet chill of winter doesn’t linger on their skin. Kei stares resolutely at the book in his hands so he stops noticing the way Koutarou’s undershirt clings to the hard lines of his muscular frame.

They’ve finished the two Austen novels he brought with him, so for the past few nights Kei’s been reading from one of his favorite botany books. He always thought the author found a perfect balance between informative and poetic. Kei often used this text in lectures, enjoying the chance to read aloud descriptions of flowering trees and moss like they were the most beautiful things in the world.

Koutarou has other ideas. He tips to the side, knocking their shoulders together, and groans softly. “I like your voice and all, Kei, but these plant books ain’t as enjoyable as the ones about the ladies in big houses who go on walks and get mad when people are rude.”

Kei sputters out a laugh. “What a magnificent way to summarize Austen. You’re quite the literary scholar.”

“I don’t know about that, and I do find your plant books interestin,’ but I like stories where things are happenin.’”

Slowly, Kei shuts the book in his hands, sets it aside, and dares a glance over his shoulder at the man beside him. It’s a mistake, he knows immediately as his chest constricts at the sight of him, but it’s a mistake he’ll keep making time and time again. “Why don’t you tell me a story then?”

The way Koutarou’s face lights up makes Kei feel warmer than any roaring fire could. He keeps stoking the embers of his feelings for Koutarou, never letting them die, like he should.

“I’ve already told you all of my best Bess stories, haven’t I?” Koutarou says more to himself than Kei, looking up at the ceiling as he thinks. “And the sheep, love ‘em, but they just don’t have  _ personalities _ . The goats are good, funny as all, but I don’t think I have any good stories I ain’t told you already.” He looks back at Kei and shrugs his massive shoulders.

“What about the people in town? You’ve known them for a while, haven’t you?”

The brightness drains from Koutarou’s face so quickly, it leaves Kei feeling chilled to the bone. Koutarou looks into the fire with a faraway stare and Kei feels instant guilt at prodding at some well-hidden sore spot. “It’s okay if you--”

Koutarou interrupts, his voice distant. “I haven’t had many friends, spare the animals. People--” He sighs, his entire body sagging under some invisible weight. “People like me for a while but then they get tired of me. Everyone gets tired of me.” He takes a deep breath and adds, “‘cept you.”

The words wrap around Kei’s heart like a vice. He finds it hard to breathe, but he forces out a strained laugh and does his best to brush it off because, heaven above, does he love this man, wants to comfort him the way a lover would be free to do. But he can’t.

Kei deflects, “Can’t say that people back home were too fond of me either. I’m a very sour person. Thought I could make a go of it out here, but turns out I’m ill-fitted for that, as well.” He laughs weakly, trying to cut a knife through the charged tension that’s settled in the small room where they live out their days, but Koutarou looks at him in a way that swallows Kei whole.

“You ain’t sour and you’ve taken to everything I’ve taught you well. You’ve sure made winter a whole hell of a lot more bearable.”

Kei can feel a traitorous flush rising up his chest, threatening to climb up his neck and expose all the secrets he keeps buried inside. He glances away because if he spends one more second looking at his eyes, he’s going to ruin what he has here. “You’re kind to say that, but I was the fool who thought I could make it out here on my own.”

“You’re not a fool to think that. I thought that about myself, too,” Koutarou says slowly.

Kei whips his head to the side, shocked. “But you can! You did! You can live on your own. You’ve done it for years, haven’t you?”

Koutarou’s lips part and Kei stares at the gentle slope of his bottom lip, his heart racing. He forces himself to meet his eyes again, but that’s far worse. Koutarou’s leaned in closer. Those rich, golden eyes are now mere inches from his own.

In a low voice, Koutarou finally breaks the charged tension between them. “I survived, Kei, but it wasn’t really livin.’ Not until you got here.”

If it was hard to breathe before, now it’s impossible. Kei feels sweat gathering on the small of his back and there’s a pinch in his stomach, a tingle in his fingers. He wants to touch. He wants to feel Koutarou’s rough skin under his fingertips, wants to hear what other sounds he can drag from that beautiful mouth that says the kindest things. He wants all the sweetness and all the heat he’s imagined to consume them in this moment. Oh, to give in would be so simple. Just a tip over the edge. Koutarou is so close and he isn’t moving away.

Kei’s hands are trembling where he keeps them balled into fists in his lap. Koutarou’s eyes flutter closed, a hum in his throat and Kei has to look away. He must ground himself in reality again. Koutarou thinks of him as a trusted friend. He stares at the flickering flames, acutely aware of every point where their arms still touch because it burns him now. “I’m glad I’ve brought something to your life here, Koutarou, even if I can’t really see it.”

“Yet.”

“Hm?” He responds, heart still drumming in his ears.

“Can’t see it yet,” Koutarou says and Kei can still feel his eyes on him, knows it because he can sense it, can feel that gaze on his skin as strong as if it were Koutarou’s warm palms on him instead.

***

One morning when Koutarou is in town, Kei takes on the responsibilities of caring for the animals. The work is slower without Koutarou guiding him and Kei is frustrated with how often he forgets things and has to double-back in the shin-deep snow. The work should have taken two or three hours, but Kei knows he’s been out here longer. Rationally, the larger problem is the snow filling his footprints as soon as he walks away, but he blames himself and his obvious inadequacies.

As he toils, the snow begins to fall in thick clumps and the wind picks up, but Kei doesn’t stop. Koutarou is relying on him. Kei made a promise. Brow sweaty, muscles aching, he is nothing if not determined. He can do this on his own. Even if it takes him all day.

By the time he finishes caring for Bess, he’s exhausted. He slumps against the barn wall and closes his eyes, mustering the will to trudge through the snow and make it back to the cabin. He can hear the wind whipping outside and summons what strength he has left to keep his head down and fight one last battle before he can rest.

But when he opens the barn door, the wood is ripped from his hands, forced open by the wind. This isn’t the same as the soft yet heavy sheet of snow that’s been falling these past few days. Kei can’t see the cabin. Fearing for the animals, he struggles to shut the door and latch it closed.

For a moment, he stands there paralyzed with indecision, wondering if he should go back in the barn and wait this out. Kei shakes his head. He’s walked the path between the barn and the cabin for many days now. It’d be foolish to wait inside of a cold barn when he knows the way home to a warm fire.

He tucks his head down into his coat, fists his gloved hands up under his arms, and takes one wind-buffeted step after another working hard to keep his balance. The ground is snow covered and unsteady already, even without the snow pelting what little skin is showing. But he tells himself that he knows the way back, that he’s fine.

Shaky step after shaky step, Kei makes progress, but he feels a pinch of worry in his stomach. Pushing it away, Kei focuses on returning home, returning to warmth, returning to Koutarou. The thought of the other man pushes him to take another step, another. He continues even when the worry sinks into his chest and makes his heart rattle with the first stirrings of fear.

He knew this trip back to the cabin would take longer in this weather.

But it shouldn’t have taken this long.

Kei looks up and thick, wet snow hits his glasses. He wipes it away with a gloved hand so he can see where the cabin is, but all that he sees in his field of view is a blurry blanket of white. The world’s been erased. He turns to look back over his shoulder and he can no longer see the barn either.

Fear settles in and sinks its icy fingers into his heart. He whips his head around as his heart races, looking for any details that could be a building he knows, the fence near the cabin, the cabin itself. Even a tree that he knows is on Koutarou’s property. Anything at all.

He has no idea which direction he’s been walking. It felt right, but clearly he was wrong. Just like with everything. In this moment, like so many before, Kei knows with such certainty that he is always the fool. Left alone, he can do nothing for himself. He struggles with the simplest tasks. He can’t care for the animals properly. He can barely cook. He can’t even make it back to the cabin without getting lost.

He’s hopeless. Pathetic.

He feels a sharp sting in the back of his eyes and he blinks it back, forcing himself to take another step in a new direction, hoping this is better, hoping that luck might win out over his foolish, misplaced pride. This time he looks up as he walks even though the snow cuts into his skin. With each step, he blinks back frustrated tears until he can’t hold them back any longer. He cries out as the sobbing starts, but grits his teeth and keeps walking, keeps trying.

When he’s soaked to the bone, he hears a voice. At first he’s certain it’s just the wind, just the sound of his own snotty sobs being swallowed by the snow, but it rings in clearer. Again and again. His name.

“Koutarou?” He shouts at the top of his lungs, voice thin, teeth chattering in his mouth.

“Kei!” Koutarou’s voice is nearly swept away, but Kei spins in its direction, finding new strength to put one foot in front of the other.

He shouts back and Koutarou’s voice is an answer every time until finally, Kei spots him in the distance. He tries to run, but he’s exhausted. He tries to stop the tears that are cold and freezing on his cheeks, but the bittersweet relief of being rescued, of  _ having _ to be rescued again makes that impossible.

Koutarou reaches him first. He bounds over to Kei in huge steps and wraps his arms around him, pressing his cheek against Kei’s. “I found you. Oh thank you, thank you, thank you. I found you.”

Weak and tired, Kei sinks into his embrace and sobs into his shoulder, his body shaking as he gasps for breath. Koutarou pulls back and skates his rough thumb along Kei’s chin, his warm palm against Kei’s neck. Ashamed, Kei tries to look away, but he can’t find it in himself to leave the warmth of Koutarou’s skin against his own. He lets Koutarou guide his face up towards his.

He can’t see much for all the snow on his glasses, but he can feel Koutarou’s breath on his nose, his lips. Kei chokes around another wracking sob.

Koutarou holds him reassuringly. “I found you. I’ve got you. I’ll get you home.”

Impossibly, Koutarou does just that. With Kei slumped against his side, they make slow and steady progress back towards the cabin. Every time Kei tries to stand on his own, Koutarou’s arm around his shoulder tugs him closer.

But by the time they reach the cabin door, Kei feels no relief, only bone-deep guilt. He is a fool, at best. He is a burden. He is not meant to be here.

Koutarou slams his back against the door to shut it behind them and Kei collapses into self-pity on the floor. “I was never meant to come here!” He shouts, the truth of it snapping his heart in two. “Everything has told me time and time again that I am useless, that I was either meant to die here or leave!” He falls forward onto his hands, tears pouring down his cheeks onto the floor. He shouts louder this time, “I can’t do anything. I was never supposed to be here!”

His life back East feels like it happened ages ago, like he’s died a hundred times between then and now. He’s not even sure if he could survive the trip back. He’s either going to die here or die going back home, but he has to go.

There’s heavy steps behind him, a hand on his back, but Kei yanks his body away. He steadies his voice, stares at his hands. “I think in the spring, I’ll return East,” he mutters, voice wrecked and torn in his throat. Kei remains like that, staring at the floor and supporting himself on shaking limbs as he listens to the sound of Koutarou’s heavy steps retreating.

They don’t speak much that evening and Kei takes Koutarou’s silence as agreement of the facts. Koutarou might have enjoyed having a friend, but he doesn’t deserve the sentence of caring for Kei any longer. Kei would have had to leave in the spring regardless, either to go further Northwest or retreat with his tail between his legs. None of this was permanent.

That night Kei pulls his share of blankets from the bed and makes a place for himself on the floor, righting a wrong that’s existed from the beginning.

He doesn’t sleep. Silent tears stream into the blankets as he tries to shut himself up tight, firm his resolve, and stop wishing Koutarou would talk to him, ask him to stay, tell him it’s alright to be here forever. Those are dreams that were never going to be true.   


***

In the days after the snowstorm, the world outside begins to thaw but inside the cabin the mood has turned cold and unfamiliar. Koutarou is quiet and folds into himself. He smiles less and can’t seem to focus on Kei when they do speak. He’s shorter with Kei when he makes mistakes in the barn. They stop reading together at night. Kei sleeps on the floor night after night as spring approaches.

One evening, Koutarou returns from town and informs Kei that there’s a group traveling east that should leave in three weeks time.

***

The first week that grass begins to peek through the snow, Koutarou is out in the fields preparing for the upcoming season and Kei is left alone in the cabin that’s been his home all these months. For entirely new reasons, it pains him now to look at the bed in broad daylight and think of how he nearly died there, how he would have died in the wild if Koutarou had never found him.

His hands are cold when they pick up his forgotten botany book by the fireplace. He hasn’t opened it once since the storm. There hasn’t been a need to. Koutarou sits in front of the fire long enough to warm his body and then goes to sleep early. He still wishes Kei “good night,” but the comfort in his voice has disappeared. Kei longs for it, but knows it wasn’t his to have. He misses who Koutarou used to be, but he decides this is for the best. He can close off his heart before leaving so he doesn’t cling to some fantasy that never existed.

Yet, with a wistful sigh, he opens to the last page they read together, his last moment of weakness before he hardens his heart once more to face the world beyond this cabin.

A scrap of paper falls to the floor. Kei didn’t remember marking their page, but perhaps he did. He reaches down to pick it up and notices there’s writing on the other side. Big, bold letters. All capitals written with a shaky hand.

Kei’s eyes scan the paper and his heart fully stops before it begins racing.

_ Stay. I need you more than the air I breathe. Please stay. _

Suddenly his eyes can’t focus and he blinks back tears so he can read those words again and again, let them sink in and become real. His hands tremble and the book slips from his fingers. But he tightly balls the paper into his palm and grabs a coat, rushing out towards the barn. He runs as fast as his legs will carry him, righting himself when he slips on a patch of melting snow. He scans the fields for any sight of him, but seeing nothing he barrels towards the barn door, arms outstretched.

Koutarou swings the door open wide before Kei reaches him.

“Kei, what’re you—”

“The note!” Kei huffs, eyes wide, heart stuttering with a barely contained hope.

“Oh.” Koutarou’s shoulders slump and he looks away. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have left it. I thought about throwin’ it away, but I couldn’t. I’m sorry I—”

“Do you mean it?” Kei asks, his hope turning bittersweet where it wells up in his chest. He stares at Koutarou and watches the other man slowly lift his head. His hands shake at his sides and he wants so badly to reach out and touch Koutarou’s cheek as tenderly as he did that day of the snowstorm, but he waits. Kei’s still not certain.

When their eyes meet, Koutarou’s golden eyes pin him in place and steal the breath from his lungs. “I mean it, Kei. Every word.”

Kei chokes back a shuddered sob and rushes to wrap his arms around Koutarou’s broad shoulders. Relief and reckless yearning carry his heart to new heights as he presses his face against Koutarou’s cheek and whispers into his ear, “I want to stay.”

Koutarou embraces him timidly, so much gentler than any other time Koutarou’s casually touched him before. His voice cracks when he asks, “You do?”

“I need you, too.”

Koutarou lets out a heavy sigh, something watery and relieved, and those stong arms slide around Kei’s middle and hug him so tight that Koutarou lifts him from the ground. Kei squeezes his arms tighter around Koutarou’s neck, holds on like he never wants to let go.

He never will.

Koutarou starts to laugh, the sound rumbling up from his chest. Kei feels it before he hears it and it fills his heart with a warmth he’s never known before. A comfort he had never found. A home he’s discovered. He laughs, too, even as he blinks to hold back the happy tears that wish to fall.

When Koutarou finally sets him down, Kei looks at him, really looks for the first time. Koutarou’s still, cheeks tear-stained and shiny in the afternoon sun, and Kei glides his fingertips along Koutarou’s neck. He holds his breath, overwhelmed by the feel of him beneath his touch. He breathes again only when Koutarou rests his head lightly in Kei’s palm and his thumb traces the scruffy lines of Koutarou’s jaw.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Kei asks, breathless.

“I couldn’t.” Koutarou shakes his head but doesn’t tear his eyes away for a second. “You’re you. And I’m just me. I wanted a painless way out for both of us if you didn’t feel the same.”

“Would it have been painless?”

“Never.”

Kei moves with an instinct he never knew he possessed. He gives into the want that’s coursed through his veins for months as his eyes flutter shut and he guides their lips together in a tentative kiss. It’s a timid thing, unsure because Kei’s never let himself love like this before. He’s never had a reason to.

But Koutarou shows no more hesitation. He hoists Kei up by the waist and Kei tumbles against him, his eyes flying open wide as Koutarou’s mouth begins to move against his own. Heat surges through Kei’s body and he gasps. Eyes slipping shut, he tangles his fingers in Koutarou’s hair, locking his legs around his sturdy waist. Koutarou sighs into his mouth as Kei’s lips part to welcome him, connect them as closely as Kei’s longed for all this time. Every inch of his skin, every drop of his blood feels alive.

Koutarou kisses him like he needs Kei to breathe.

And Kei answers with his own need, knowing that every step in his life, no matter how foolish it seemed at the time, led him here. Led him to Koutarou. Led him home.

“I love you,” he whispers against Koutarou’s lips.

Koutarou tilts his head back just enough to meet Kei’s gaze as he says, “I love you more than words can say.”

***

Spring arrives and the earth beneath their feet blooms. The snow melts and everything begins to burst through, vibrant and verdant after so many months hidden away.

Koutarou’s up well before dawn, as he always is, and Kei clings to the last moments of sleep.

“Rise ‘n’ shine, Kei,” Koutarou’s voice is still thick with sleep.

Even though Kei’s eyes are closed, he can hear the smile in Koutarou’s voice. Kei presses his head deeper into the pillow, grumbling. He knows their morning routine well by now and can’t hold back his own anticipatory smile.

Beside him Koutarou laughs softly and skims his fingers along Kei’s chin before pressing a kiss to his forehead. “We gotta get up. You know Bess hates when we’re late and we need milk for supper tonight.”

Blinking his eyes open to face the dark, he seeks the only thing bright enough to see before morning light. Koutarou’s eyes are golden and he's warm and welcoming against Kei’s skin. He sighs, leaning into his touch. Kei traces one hand along the side of Koutarou’s body, savoring the subtle shudder it earns him, before he gently twists his hand into the loose locks of silvery grey hair. “Can you really say ‘rise ‘n’ shine’ when nothing is shining yet?”

“You’re here, ain’t ya?”

Kei grins in the darkness and he guides Koutarou’s lips closer to his own. “Surely I’m not brighter than the sun.”

Koutarou’s hand slips around his waist and settles there. Kei inhales sharply and Koutarou laughs again, their lips nearly touching. “You are to me.”

For all his studies, all his papers, all his lectures, all his pretty words, Kei still can’t find the right words to say to match Koutarou’s sweet sincerity. So he replies the only way he knows how. Kei kisses him with all the honesty of his heart laid bare, saying with tender touches and the promise of more that he’s grateful for this life, for this home, for this happiness, for this chance to be something greater than he ever imagined at Koutarou’s side.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's finished! My little fic baby I started so long ago. I've discovered I quite like writing period pieces. Maybe there will be more in the future. Shake things up in 2021.
> 
> I do hope you enjoyed this heartfelt journey with Kei and Kou. Know that they live out their days happy and warm in one another's embrace. Soft and sweet forever.
> 
> Also Kei gets bigger and stronger, too. Kou quite likes that fact.
> 
> Thank you so much for reading, my lovelies!

**Author's Note:**

> I started the document for this in November 2019. SO LONG AGO. I've been slowly working on it every few months when the mood struck, but in my heart I knew I wanted this to be my first published fic of the new year.
> 
> Thank you to my lovely Beta, Zelda, for once again making my fics happen with your help and encouragement!
> 
> The Hallmark movie this borrows some plot points from is "Love Comes Softly" and if you can stand the OVERT Christian overtones, it's a solid watch. I just, you know, made it gay with a whole lot more pining.
> 
> This hymn is lovely, by the way. I guess I gained something from all those years in church. My favorite version is sang by Natalie Merchant, though. Go give it a listen!
> 
> Comments, kudos, and bookmarks make me smile! (And I always reply to comments...even if it takes be a while!)
> 
> Chat with me on Twitter - [@HeyMellieJellie](https://twitter.com/HeyMellieJellie). I scream about haikyuu a lot.


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